


star light, star bright

by mochiho (pining)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Falling In Love, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of War, Mythology - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pining/pseuds/mochiho
Summary: Chanyeol throws a hand up to stop him. “I’m Korean if you couldn't tell, I speak Korean, we’re in Korea— I know whatByeol-ui Jogagmeans.” He rubs a hand over his damp face. “Piece of a star? You're a star?” It sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth, but the boy nods his head.“Quite literally yeah. Y’know how shooting stars grant wishes? We’re able to do so after we crash as well.”Or Where Chanyeol buys a star. But not in the way that you think.





	star light, star bright

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it's chansoo day and the last day of chansoo week!  
> this fic was originally planned to be posted on day 5 of chansoo week but i wasn't home that day so i couldn't post it but it's here now~ i hope you enjoy.

_The sky gave you everything_  
_And the world gave you to me_  
_I will protect you so your heart isn’t broken or cracked_  
_I promise that I will live for you_

_\-- Heaven, EXO_

 

⚘✸⚘

 

A storm cloud hovers in the sky above just as Chanyeol is being pulled into a shop by his sister. The streets of Myeongjang are relatively quiet at this time of the evening, most people already out for the night or holed up inside their homes to stay clear from the oncoming storm. A halmeoni Chanyeol knows as Yeseul sits out on her front porch, smoking out of her late husband’s pipe, and she waves to them as they pass by.

The summer heat clings to their skin, and even with the sun starting to set Chanyeol can still feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck. The door of the shop opens and closes with a chime and Chanyeol frowns at the few fans placed around the small store, blowing nothing but hot air throughout the room.  
  
The store’s illuminated in a soft orange glow and the floors covered in tacky rugs.The bookshelves are stacked so high with knick-knacks and other items that Chanyeol’s almost worried they could come toppling over at any minute. Yoora disappears behind a stack of books and Chanyeol steps forward to follow her, already feeling a bit anxious at being left alone but her head pops up behind a Buddha statue a few feet away from where Chanyeol is standing awkwardly.  
  
“Don't just stand there,” She says to him, “Help me find something for mom.”  
  
Chanyeol grumbles, shuffles his feet forward and moves towards where Yoora is reading aloud excerpts from books she was finding. He drags his hands along the shelves and wipes the dust that collects under his fingers on the bare skin of his thighs. There isn’t really anything here that he could see his mother wanting. To be quite honest, he didn't see how anyone could like this stuff. He knows it’s an antique shop, and antiques are old items, but most of the stuff hanging on the walls and stacked up on the floors are things that Chanyeol would almost adequate to _garbage._ But he wasn't exactly the most cultured person, so where was he to judge.  
  
He picks up a few items; a clock stuck at 1:45, a jewelry box with a broken speaker whose song is going to haunt Chanyeol for years, and a set of non-matching china that’s unusually boxed together. None of them really appeal to his taste, or the taste of his mother. He doesn’t actually know what she likes but Yoora had already made her way down this aisle and she didn’t pick anything up so Chanyeol just leaves everything where he sees it. He drags his feet back to the end of the aisle and sticks his head around one of the shelves.  
  
“Yah, Noona, I don’t think there’s an—”

 Chanyeol bites down on his lip _hard_ as his hip collides painfully with a small table that _definitely_ wasn’t there before. He presses his hand against the throbbing bone and clenches his other one into a fist at his side. Chanyeol stares down at the small oak table. It’s right in front of the door, where Chanyeol himself was standing not fifteen minutes ago. There’s another clock on this one, it’s older, a bit smaller, and the hands actually move. But— no, that can’t be the actual time. The clock reads 6:12 pm. Chanyeol had left his apartment at 6:10. Which he swears was hours ago. He pulls his phone from his back pocket and clicks on the home button. It turns on for a quick second but before Chanyeol can get a glance at the time it fades to black. The small rotating pinwheel pops up and Chanyeol huffs, shoving it back into the pocket of his shorts.  
  
His eyes flicker back to the clock and this time both the hands are moving quickly. 6:12, 7:30, 8:15, Chanyeol reaches forward and grips it in his hands, his eyes straining to see them as they circle around. He flinches at every tick it makes. The sound’s almost louder than the blood rushing in his ears and he squeezes his eyes closed. Something grabs him by the shoulders and Chanyeol turns, his breath caught in his throat  
  
“What are you doing?” Yoora asks, “Oh! That's nice! Where'd you find that?”  
  
Chanyeol gapes at her, his head spinning. “...Find what?”  
  
Yoora’s eyes flicker down to Chanyeol’s waist then back up the his eyes. She steps forward and places a hand onto his shoulder. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”  
  
Chanyeol looks down to where Yoora’s eyes just glanced towards and his eyes widen. There's a box in his hands. He jumps at the sight of it and both of his hands fall from where they're gripping it and clutch at his chest. The box hovers in the air for a moment and then plummets to the ground, dust flying off the ivory exterior. A pair of hands grab it just before it shatters on the floor and Chanyeol turns to look at who they belong to. He also notices with alarm that the table is no longer there.  
  
Something settles in the air around them and Chanyeol swallows hard. There's a woman, much older than Yoora, standing a few inches away from him, clutching the box between her wrinkled hands. She looks up at him with wide eyes and Chanyeol stares back. He reaches up and knuckles his eyelids, sleep trying to claim him even at this early hour. He steps backwards and the back of his thighs hit against a hard surface, something jingles at the impact. He looks back. It’s the table. The clock’s still there, stuck on 6:12. He blinks and the hands started to move again.  
  
“No, stop!” Chanyeol presses his hands against the rough wood of the table and closes his eyes. He can’t feel Yoora beside him anymore. The soft lights of the store bleed into darkness and Chanyeol can feel the atmosphere changing around him. Something tingles on the back of his neck, in the pit of his stomach. He bites down on his tongue and counts to ten.  
  
_One. Two. Three. Four. Five_.  
  
The hands of the clock tick furiously. A loud chime echoes through the store every time it hits twelve and Chanyeol can feel it vibrating his bones.  
  
_Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten._

 “Chanyeol?” Something presses down against his shoulder blades and Chanyeol flinches at the contact. “Chanyeol, seriously, what is up with you?”

 He turns and Yoora is standing right in front of him, a concerned look etched upon her features. Chanyeol flexes his hands at his sides, an anxious feeling creeping into his gut. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “I'm fine, can we go?”

 “Yeah, just let me pay..” She juts her thumb over her shoulder, towards the old woman standing behind the counter. She’s placing a few books and the box Chanyeol had just been holding into a plastic bag.

 “I don't want that.” Chanyeol chokes out and Yoora blinks at him.

 “You just handed it to me and asked if I could buy it for you.” She glances down, Chanyeol's hands are shaking slightly. “...I would normally refuse but it's so pretty, I don't want it wasting away here.” She wraps her hand around Chanyeol’s wrist and pulls him towards the counter. The halmeoni smiles at him and Chanyeol feels his skin chilling under her gaze.

 She picks the box back up from where it’s sitting on the edge of the bag. It looks ginormous in her small hands and her fingers leave smudges in the dust.

 “This is one of my most prized possessions,” She says, staring at Chanyeol. “I wouldn't let it go home with just anyone.”

 “You should keep it.”

 She shakes her head. The grey hairs tucked into the small bun at the back of her head fall from the elastic holding them together and she pushes them off her face. “It's been here long enough, He's been getting lonely.” She smiles again, wistfully. “You'll be good to him, I can tell.” She places the box back in the bag. “He's been sitting there for so long, I didn't think anyone was ever going to find him among all this junk.”

 “Uhm.” Chanyeol slowly reaches out and grabs the bag off the counter. “Yeah, okay. I’ll clean... _him_ up when I get home.”

 Yoora pinches him painfully in the side and Chanyeol flinches. He glares at her she just shoots her eyebrows up in a way that has Chanyeol trying not to laugh. She rolls her eyes and yanks the bag from his hands. It’s heavy and it thuds against her thigh, the corner of the box ripping the thin plastic of the bag.

 They walk home in silence. Yoora’s eyes set on the street ahead and Chanyeol’s own locked on the swinging bag at her side. There was something off about it. Not just the weird events that occurred in the store but the way all the energy seemed to drain from his body from a pinpoint whenever he looked at it. Just before they got to Chanyeol’s apartment he quickly reaches into the bag and holds the box up to eyesight. It seems oddly _sentient_ ; his fingers can feel something thrumming beneath them like a heartbeat. He swipes his thumb across the front of it and his mouth dropped open slightly at the beauty of the pattern underneath the dust. Dark wood, painted carefully with purple and white flowers, birds mid-flight among the petals.

 He waves goodbye to Yoora and jogs up to his apartment. There are clothes thrown everywhere and dishes stacked high in the sink. Chanyeol runs over and turns the fan sitting on his windowsill on, already suffocating in the heat. He places the box onto the coffee table, pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it over his shoulder. Chanyeol plops down onto the couch and sags into the cushions, feeling exhausted.

 He throws his arm across his eyes and tries to relax. He listens to the soft whirr of the fan and the slight rustling of papers as the cool air passes by his stack of music He rolls onto his side, then back again. Chanyeol groans. He can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching him, no matter how strange it sounds. He shifts onto his side again, this time facing the table, his eyes locked onto the box.

 Among the flowers and birds there was something seemingly peculiar about the designs. Maybe it was the fact that the small painted eyes of the birds seemed to follow his gaze or maybe it was the small, cheap, star-shaped lock attached to it. He reaches forward and grabs the box from the table. His skin begins to itch immediately and he presses his thumb against the lid of the box, pressing down gently. It doesn’t budge.

 He huffs and places it back down on the table.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

A few weeks pass by and Chanyeol finds himself almost forgetting about the odd purchase sitting on his coffee table. The days get warmer and more humid. Chanyeol stays holed up in his apartment, his several fans blowing air around the room. It’s too hot to sit at his desk and work and he ignores all the messages from his boss asking about new songs.

 He’s lying on his bed now. All the windows shut tight and blinds pulled down, dressed in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and he _still_ feels like his insides are boiling. The pair of plants sitting on a shelf by his desk are flopped over, crying into their leaves. Outside he was sure people were melting into puddles on the sidewalk, sliding sadly into the sewers. Sweat slides off his skin and soaks the mattress beneath him. His sheets already balled up in the corner of his room, permeating sweat and other atypical smells throughout the room.

 “Fuck!” Chanyeol exclaims. He thrashes around on the bed, legs and arms flailing. “Holy shit, I’m going to die today.” He reaches over and grabs his phone sitting on his pillow. “Dear Yoora,” He types, “The next time you see me I will most likely, probably, be dead. You’ll find me in my room, boiled alive. Please rearrange my body to make it seem like I died really cool. Maybe a skateboarding mishap.” He saves the note on his phone and rolls himself off his bed. There’s enough clothes on his floor to cushion his fall.

 He pouts, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I wish it wasn’t so hot, oh my god, I hate the summer season so much.”

 Still face down on the floor he presses his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and shimmies until they’re pooled at his ankles, leaving him in nothing but a pair of Rilakkuma themed boxer shorts. They were a gift from Jongin and he always made sure to text him a pic whenever he was wearing them, but it was so fucking hot out that his _entire_ brain was melting beneath his skull. He thought momentarily about getting earplugs to keep it from dripping out but shakes the thought from his head. He doesn’t really want to move.

He stretches one of his arms up and pats around on his bed for his phone. His hand closes around it and he pulls it down onto the floor as well. Maybe Sehun was free and they could go down to the beach, but Chanyeol crinkles his nose at that. There would be way too many people down there on a day like this.

 Something falls to the floor outside in the living room and Chanyeol’s head shoots up. If he was anywhere else he probably wouldn't of heard it, but his apartment’s so small that just a simple pen falling to the floor could sound like the point-blank shot of a gun. He sits up and grabs the old baseball bat leaning against his desk. The wood is splintered and there’s a rusted nail lodged in the barrel of it from when Baekhyun bet he couldn't hit one like a ball, he couldn’t _obviously_ and the whole thing ended with a trip to the emergency room, but it was worth it to see Baekhyun cry, as sadistic as it sounds.

 Chanyeol grips the bat between his hands and steps out into the hallway. He presses himself against the wall and grimaces at the feeling of sweat sliding against the cool paint. There's another sound, it's not the soft thump it was earlier though, it’s the sound of the couch cushions squishing together as someone sits down on them. He inhales deeply. Damn. He really was going to die today.

 Chanyeol jumps around the corner, brandishing his bat.

 But he isn't faced with what he would usually equate to a cold-blooded killer. There's a person, yes. A boy. Sitting cross-legged on Chanyeol’s patch work sofa, drowning in a yellow sweater that's sleeves fall past the tips of his fingers and a pair of black jeans. His hair matches the colour of them, soft and shaved at the sides. There’s a smudge of dirt across one of his cheek and dust clinging to his hair. Chanyeol swallows hard.

 “You probably have a lot of questions.” He says, his voice deep and soothing, like honey spread across warm bread. There's no sweat clinging to his forehead nor is his hair a matted mess. Chanyeol feels under-dressed in his own apartment. The boy pushes himself off the couch, takes a few steps forward and stops right at the end of Chanyeol’s bat. His nose brushes against it. “Put down the bat.”

 Chanyeol doesn't move — can't move, and the boy waits a few seconds before grabbing it out of his hands and tossing it to the side. As his fingers wrap around it, the sleeves of his sweater ride up and Chanyeol notices two small silver bracelets hanging tight around his wrists.

 “What the hell is going on?” Chanyeol asks. “Who are you? How did you even get _in_ here?”

The boy stands there, wide-eyes open and careful as Chanyeol panics. Chanyeol breathes heavily through his nose and sweat slides down the soft skin of his chest. The boy, dressed for the fall rather than the summer doesn't seem affected by the heat.

 “You made a wish.” The boy says matter-of-factly, like that vague answer cures Chanyeol of his very rational curiosity.

 “What does that even mean?”

 “It _means_ that you made a wish. I don't really know how else to explain it.”

 “Well try,” Chanyeol grits out, “Before I call the police.”

 The boy doesn't look phased by the threat and Chanyeol licks his lips anxiously. He watches as he makes his way towards the coffee table, picks up the jewellery box and holds it in his arms. Chanyeol opens his mouth to tell him to put it down; not just because it's his but because of the odd feelings that usually follows direct contact with it, but the boy doesn't react.

 “You made a wish,” He says again and Chanyeol makes a pained expression, what the hell was he talking about? “And _I_ grant wishes.”

 Chanyeol laughs then, eyes wide, mouth open, hand pressed to his forehead. The heat has made him go delusional, that's the only explanation. This is just an illusion concocted by his melting brain as he slips into a heat induced coma on his bedroom floor. “You grant wishes?” Chanyeol asks, gears in his mind still churning. “Like a genie?”

 The boy laughs at that, nose crinkling. “I'm not a genie.” He pulls at the sleeves of his sweater. “But I guess you could say that.”

 “What are you then?”

 “ _Byeol-ui jogag_ is the term most people nowadays refer to me as. It means—”

 Chanyeol throws a hand up to stop him. “I’m Korean if you couldn't tell, I speak Korean, we’re _in_ Korea— I know what _Byeol-ui_ _Jogag_ means.” He rubs a hand over his damp face. “Piece of a star? You're a star?” It sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth, but the boy nods his head.

 “Quite literally yeah, y’know how shooting stars grant wishes? We’re able to do so after we crash as well.”

 Chanyeol laughs again and both of his hands fist his hair as he bends over. He recalls Yoora saying something about _his_ kind when she was reading through the books from the shop, there must have been one on mythical creatures or beings or whatever this boy was. _Byeol-ui Jogag_ , _a piece of a dying star. If it's captured before it crashes into the earth then it remains alive, keeping its ability to grant the wishes of those it comes in contact with._

  _“_ Look _Byeol-ui_ , I don't want anything from you just..” He leans over and grabs the box from the star person’s hands. “Just go back in here, please.”

 “I can't— and my name is Kyungsoo.” He grabs the box back from Chanyeol and takes a step back, hiding it under the fabric of his sweater.

 “What do you mean you _can't_?” Chanyeol wants to cry. “Just go back in. I don't want this.”

 “Have humans gotten less intelligent over the couple years i've been stuck in captivity? When I said I can't that's what I meant, I can't go back into the box until i've granted all three of your wishes.” Kyungsoo huffs and falls back onto the couch, the cushions groan again and they seem to swallow him down. His fan blows past them and Kyungsoo turns towards it, a child-like curiosity glimmering in his large eyes.

The artificial wind ruffles his slick bangs and Chanyeol reaches up to brush them off his forehead, his thoughts crashing against his skull like a wave against the beach. He could get rid of him easily, think of three things that he wants and Kyungsoo would be sucked back into his little jewelry box. But this was a once in a lifetime ordeal, how many times had Chanyeol laid awake at night as a child, making wish after wish inside his mind as sleep slowly claimed him. He scratches his blunt nails against the side of his face and pushes himself off the wall so that he’s standing again.

 “Your wish from earlier,” Kyungsoo says, pulling one of his legs onto the couch with him and wrapping his arms around it. “Is that your first wish?”

 Chanyeol walks over and falls onto the couch beside him. Kyungsoo was sitting in the middle of both the cushions, so there wasn’t much room, and as Chanyeol sat down he expected his long limbs to knock against Kyungsoo’s own, but he didn’t feel any contact. He didn’t feel anything. In the back of his mind he briefly thought that touching Kyungsoo would be similar to touching his box, odd and rather painful, but when he looks down, his knee is phasing right through Kyungsoo.

 Chanyeol jumps and he lands on the hard arm of the couch.

 “What the fuck?”

 Kyungsoo looks down and laughs quietly. Chanyeol’s eyes flicker back up to his face and the sound settles deep in his gut.

 “Sorry,” Kyungsoo mumbles, “I wasn’t paying attention— I’m usually solid, don’t worry.”

 Chanyeol slowly reaches his hand out, cautious of the way Kyungsoo seems to stare at him, and places his palm, face down, on the part of his knee peeking through the ripped part of his jeans. His skin radiates warmth, and even in the sauna that was Chanyeol’s apartment it had him pressing closer.

 “How are you not boiling?” Chanyeol asks, he pinches the fabric of Kyungsoo’s sweater between his forefinger and thumb, it was thick wool.

 Kyungsoo shrugs and the movement pulls the sweater from Chanyeol’s grip. “It’s not hot, or well,” He glances down to where Chanyeol’s boxers are clinging to his skin then back up to his damp hair. Chanyeol feels his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I guess it is to you.”

 There's a few dust bunnies clinging to Kyungsoo’s hair and before Chanyeol can even compute what he’s doing, he’s pinching the dust between his fingers and pulling them off the dark strands. Kyungsoo blinks up at him.

 “You’re a bit dirty.” Chanyeol tells him and Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shoot up. He rubs the long sleeves of his sweater against his cheeks and Chanyeol grabs his wrists gently before he can dirty them any further. The bright yellow of his sweater was blinding but Chanyeol still thought it was pretty. “You can use my shower if you want, It’s a bit small and there’s not a lot of soap left, actually I might have used it all this morning— I think there’s some more under the counter— “

 This time it’s Kyungsoo wrapping his hands around Chanyeol’s wrists. “I think i’ll be able to manage, thank you.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

The prodding of small fingers against his cheek has Chanyeol slowly waking. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep but the exhaustion of getting no sleep the night before and the soft spray of water echoing through the apartment must have lulled him.

 Kyungsoo is bent over infront of him, a finger extended towards Chanyeol, his other hand clutching at the towel around his waist. Chanyeol’s eyes betray him and flicker down to his chest. Everything about him is soft, his hair, his stomach, even the clothes that he wears, it's everything a star shouldn’t be, right? Stars are jagged and pointed, or at least the animated versions of them are.

 “Sorry for waking you,” Kyungsoo says, “Do you have anything I can wear? I don’t think my clothes are the most appropriate for the current weather— even if I can’t feel the worst of it.”

 Chanyeol rubs the heels of his palms against his eyes and nods. There’s a slight crink in his neck from the angle he was sleeping at and he rubs at it as he gets off the couch. He notices, just as Kyungsoo is backing up to let him stand, that he’s still wearing the two star bracelets around his wrists. They look tight, the skin slightly red around the polished metal.

 “Yeah, I think I have some stuff that’ll fit you.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Over the next couple of days Chanyeol comes to realize that Kyungsoo doesn't need to do the things a functional human usually needs to do in order to survive; he doesn't eat, doesn't sleep. He spends most of them time curled up on Chanyeol's couch reading through the few books he has on his bookshelf, or watching re-runs of dramas that are playing as he flips through the channels.

 Sometimes Kyungsoo will glance up from his book and find Chanyeol looking at him, he’ll smile then go back to reading, but Chanyeol doesn't look away.

 He's tried to go back to the store a few times. It wasn't the point of his leaving the apartment but if he ended up walking by the particular street then no one had to know. The first time he hadn't been able to find it, which was odd, he followed the street signs, waved to Yeseul and ended up back at the intersection where he started. The second, and last time, he found it. It was boarded up, doors locked, shop sign ripped down, hanging by a single chain. Abandoned.

 Chanyeol wasn't really surprised.

 It's not until the sixth day that Kyungsoo kicks Chanyeol, painfully might he add, in the leg from where he's sitting at the middle island.

 “What was that for?” Chanyeol exclaims. He bends down and tries to rub the throbbing pain from his shin.

 “You never answered me,” He says, “The wish that you made— the one that called me out, do you want me to grant it?”

 Chanyeol's eyebrows furrow together and Kyungsoo leans over and presses the pad of his index finger against the wrinkles that gathered there until it smoothed out. Chanyeol bats his hand away but the warmth that radiated off of him clung to his skin for a moment.

 The heat that had almost killed Chanyeol a few days ago was no longer a threat, clouds had taken over the sky and the sun was safely hidden behind them. It was meant to heat up again in the upcoming week but it seemed pointless to wish for less summer heat when it wasn't bothering him anymore. Especially when he only gets three of them. He gently kicks Kyungsoo back and crosses his arms across his chest.

 “Nah, I’ll think of something even better than that. I’ll have the best wishes you ever granted and I’ll be the best person you ever granted wishes for.”

 Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Well, there's not much competition there.”

 Chanyeol opens his mouth to ask but Kyungsoo just reaches over and pats his arm before slipping off the stool.

 “I’m gonna go watch—”

 “Let's go somewhere.”

 It slips out before Chanyeol can realize it and Kyungsoo just turns to him. Neither of them have left the apartment since Kyungsoo showed up and even if Chanyeol's been getting text after text from Baekhyun and Sehun he never got around to answering them or taking them up on their plans. Chanyeol walks over to the closet by his front door and tosses Kyungsoo a pair of Baekhyun's old sneakers that he left there and a jean jacket hanging up above it.

 He looks over and Kyungsoo has them both in his hands, looking (adorably) confused. Chanyeol nods at him and he slowly bends down and pulls the shoes onto his feet. Chanyeol slides his own on and then wraps his hand around Kyungsoo's wrist.

 “Come on, your cooking dramas will still be there when we get back.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Chanyeol's car was an utter piece of shit. He got it during his senior year of high school and it was there for him during his university years; through relationships and road trips, he couldn't bare to let it go even if it was becoming a safety hazard. During his second year of school a family of squirrels burrowed their way under the hood, during his third year the break pads went and he, being the broke student he was, refused to pay to get them fixed. Instead he lived with the harsh grinding of the breaks every time he stopped at a light.

 Kyungsoo doesn't seem to mind though. The breaks _had_ gotten fixed a few months ago thanks to his sister's boyfriend, but there were still other sounds that were harsh to the ears. Specially the rattle of the air conditioner.

 He lets Kyungsoo fiddle with the radio stations as he drives down the road. He doesn't settle on anything for too long but he seems content to just take in the different genres playing through the speakers.

 Even with the sun being behind the clouds it warmed the air around them. The roof of the car was folded back, the wind blowing both their hair, Chanyeol's dark red locks whipping around his head. As they head further south the sun starts to peek through the light clouds and Kyungsoo settles into the leather seat as the heat basked over him.

 Chanyeol parks the car in an almost abandoned lot and pulls the roof back over before locking it up. A few cars pull in after them and Chanyeol throws his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he leads him towards the boardwalk.

 It wasn't as barren as he thought it would be; a few crowds of people hoarding around the shops and food stands. There's a couple down at the edge, where the waves are lapping up against the wood, with a pair of two dogs sitting beside them. Chanyeol's mouth falls into a large grin and he drags Kyungsoo over to them. The animals struggle against their leashes and their tails wag excitedly behind them.

 “Can I— we, can we pet them?” He asks and the couple look at eachother then back to where Kyungsoo is clinging onto Chanyeol’s sleeve, and nod.

 Chanyeol flops to the ground and the dogs both run up to him. They nose at his sweater, at his hair, they try to lick at his face but he cups their snouts in his hands and kisses them on the side of the nose instead. He runs his hands through their hand and scratches behind their ears, they were the cutest things he's ever seen.

 Kyungsoo coughs quietly behind him. Scratch that, maybe the second cutest things he's ever seen. Chanyeol reaches up and pulls him down so that he's crouching beside him and puts his hand on top of the smaller dogs head.

 They sit there for a few minutes, entranced with the dogs biting at each others fur, before Chanyeol stands up and thanks them. The sun was fully out by now and he pulls his sweater over his head and ties it around his waist, sweat already starting to collect at his collar. The boards creak under their feet as they walk along the pier and if Chanyeol squinted his eyes closed enough he could see the people walking underneath them. He saunters off to one of the stores open and leafs through the shirts hanging on a rack by the door. Loud pop music blares through the speakers and Chanyeol bops his head to the songs as he pushes the shirts aside. He’s not entirely sure what he's looking for, or if he’s even looking for anything specific but his fingers keep shifting through the clothes.

 He keeps an eye on Kyungsoo as he walks through the displays. He's standing near the side of the pier, stretched up to look over the side of the barrier. Chanyeol smiles to himself then grins, his hand closing over a shirt in the clearance bin. It's a dark blue button up with a bright yellow star decorating the front pocket.

 He pays the ajusshi behind the counter and spins the bag around on his finger as he makes his way over to where Kyungsoo is sitting. The scent of salt is strong and Chanyeol can feel it clinging to hi skin as he settles down next to him.

 “What's that?” Kyungsoo asks. His eyes are closed and his head is propped up against the the back of the bench.

 “I bought something for you.”

 Kyungsoo opens one of his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

 Chanyeol shrugs and pulls the plastic bag onto his lap. The shirt is folded neatly inside and Chanyeol peels the clearance sticker off the collar before placing it on Kyungsoo's lap.

 “Why not? It reminded me of you and you've been wearing my clothes for the past week. I thought you should have some of your own.” Chanyeol pats Kyungsoo’s thigh gently and leans back into the bench. Kyungsoo doesn't say anything and after a few seconds of silence he looks over to find him staring at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

 “Thank you, Chanyeol.” He says and Chanyeol feels an odd feeling climbing up the back of his throat. He coughs into the back of his hand.

 “No problem, now don't make me waste a wish and put it on.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

The wet sand is freezing beneath Chanyeol’s feet and it has his toes curling. Kyungsoo doesn't seem to mind, or maybe he just doesn't realize, and he walks along where the waves slowly inch their way up the beach. The sneakers Chanyeol lent him are in his hands and he's smiling down at where the water laps over his feet.

 The waves are fleeting against the shore, climbing up against the sand then falling back, retracting, back to where they're suppose to be. Chanyeol thinks about Kyungsoo and how he's sort of like the waves that he's currently playing in, how beneath the soft exterior he exudes around Chanyeol, there's something cold and calculating. The ocean only has one way to go, it may crash and shift but it'll always ends up against the shore. Just like Kyungsoo's inevitable return to his box.

 The tip of Kyungsoo's sneaker nudging against Chanyeol’s cheek has him blinking, returning to reality. He bats the dirty shoe away and rubs at the smudge it left on his skin. Kyungsoo is staring at him. Kyungsoo always seems to be staring at him.

 “Yah,” Chanyeol whines, “What are you doing? Don't put your shoes on my face.”

 Kyungsoo smacks the shoe over Chanyeol's head and Chanyeol tries to bite back his grin.

 “You're gonna regret that.” Chanyeol tells him and before Kyungsoo can respond Chanyeol has his arms wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up and running towards where the waves meet the shore. His toes are still freezing and the water doesn't help, it sends a chill through his body, but Kyungsoo keeps hitting his fists against Chanyeol's shoulders and squirming against his chest and even if he's pretending to be angry, Chanyeol can see the smile tugging at his lips as he throws him under the waves.

 Kyungsoo sputters as he comes up and Chanyeol keels over from laughing. It bubbles at the back of his throat and pours past his lips like a broken dam. Kyungsoo’s eyes are sparkling under the sun's light.

 They're in shallow enough water that Kyungsoo can sit at the bottom and the water licks at the bottom of his chin as he throws his legs up, around Chanyeol's neck, and pulls him under as well. Chanyeol squawks embarrassingly loud and his gangly body flops into the oncoming waves. He lands awkwardly on top of Kyungsoo, his hands buried in the sand behind his head, Kyungsoo's legs still around his neck, his shoulders. Chanyeol laughs again and knocks their forehead together.

 “I hate you so much.” Kyungsoo says and Chanyeol just pulls at one of the wet locks sticking to his forehead.

 “Sure you do, Soo-yah.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Their clothes stick to their bodies uncomfortably as they trek out of the ocean and back towards the pier. Chanyeol buys them a pair of matching towels; one depicting a sunny day the other a clear starry night. He throws the plastic bag into the trash and wraps the night towel around Kyungsoo's head, rubbing it until his hair is sticking up in every direction. Then, he does the same to himself.

 They walk around the shops until the sun starts to set and Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo into a restaurant further into the city. The scent of salt water still clings to their skin and clothes and Chanyeol’s hair is a bright puffy red cloud atop his head. The owner almost doesn't let them in until Chanyeol pulls out his wallet and shows him that he has the money to pay.

 They settle into a semi-private booth in the corner of the restaurant and Chanyeol sticks his tongue out as his back sticks to the leather of the seats. Kyungsoo squishes into the corner and pulls both of his legs onto the seat with him. The _samgyeopsal_ and _sangchu_ take a while to get there and Chanyeol fills the time with pouring soju into the shot glasses.

 “Grill the meat for me Kyungsoo-yah,” Chanyeol says downing his first glass. Kyungsoo snorts and shakes his head. “Don't laugh, come on, don't make me waste a wish on it.”

 Kyungsoo props one of his arms up onto the table and rests his cheek against his open palm. The soft orange hue of the sky sneaks in between the half-open blinds and illuminates Kyungsoo’s face. It refracts into lines across the table, across the bare skin of his arm.

 “I wish you would.” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol struggles with opening with the cap of the soju and Kyungsoo leans over to take it out of his hands. “You have to make one you know.”

 Chanyeol frowns and mumbles a quick _thank you_ before taking the bottle back. He presses down on the meet with his chopsticks and it sizzles loudly. “Why though?”

 “ _Because,_ you have to.” Chanyeol holds the meat down again and Kyungsoo finally sighs and bats his hands away before flipping it over with his own chopsticks. The side that was down on my grill was slightly burnt. “You can't keep putting it off.”

 Chanyeol grabs the meat off the grill, wraps it in the lettuce and shoves it in his mouth. “Why can't I?” He doesnt brother swallowing before he asks and Kyungsoo's features contort into disgust. “Is there a time limit or something?”

 “No, it's just not how it works Chanyeol-ah, i'm not here to be your friend. I'm here to grant wishes.”

 He looks up from where his chopsticks are digging into the plate of lettuce, his mouth falling open. Chanyeol's not sure what he's looking for but he seems to have found it and he goes back to tearing the leaf apart.

 “But you are my friend though,” Chanyeol says and Kyungsoo's hand stills.

 “Chanyeol—”

“And I’m going to keep you. I'm not gonna make any wishes and you’re going to be stuck with me forever and then finally, on my death bed i'll beckon you, and you'll come running, and with my dying breath i'll wish to be immortal.”

 “Are you done?” He asks and Chanyeol’s head falls.  

 “Sorry, It's just hard to think of something.” He shifts in his seat and sinks down until he's laying sideways on the chair. Kyungsoo mirrors him and then end up staring at each other under the table. “I want it to be good.”

 “I understand, but you have three remember? If you wish for something stupid the first time you can just wish for something better after.”

 Chanyeol swallows hard around his tongue and tries to get rid of the bitter taste sliding over his teeth by chugging another small bottle of soju sitting by the grill. It settles heavy in his stomach and it sloshes when he sits back up, his back arched, long sleeves of his sweater swallowing his arms and fingers. Kyungsoo made it seem easy, and maybe it was, maybe everyone else was quick about it and Kyungsoo was back in his box before the sun went down but Chanyeol— he can't bring himself to do it, can't bring himself to send Kyungsoo away so quickly. He grabs another piece of cooked meat and shoves it in his mouth.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

When they get back to the apartment the first thing Kyungsoo does is fall face down onto the floor. On the ride home he had been acting uncharacteristically weird, almost falling asleep against the window. Chanyeol hadn't seen him sleep once— didn't think he needed to. Chanyeol steps over him and goes into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. When he gets back Kyungsoo is on the couch, face buried in the cushions.

 There wasn't really anywhere else to sit so Chanyeol shuffles over to the couch and bends his knees enough to jostle Kyungsoo's legs but they go right through him instead, like he's not even there.

 “The physics relating to your body are so fucking weird.” Chanyeol tells him, settling down on the cushion where his legs are. “it has variable solidity…”

 Kyungsoo flips over onto his back and throws one of his hands out in the direction of Chanyeol's mouth, trying to silence him but seeing as he's not even remotely solid his hand goes right through Chanyeol's face. “No more talk about science please…just….shhhh.”

 Chanyeol laughs and tries to push Kyungsoo’s hand out of his body but he can't grab ahold of him. “You're kinda like a ghost, y’know? Like in the movies?”

 “Well, I _am_ technically dead.”

 Chanyeol's mouth falls open. “Oh, right. I never thought about it that way.”

 Kyungsoo hums in reply and burrows deeper into the couch. The shadows in the apartment are pitch against the walls, against Kyungsoo’s frame. The only light being from the street lamp outside on the road, it flickers and flickers and the light illuminates Kyungsoo's sleeping figure before going dark again.

 “Sorry Soo-yah, I didn't know going out would make you this tired— or tired at all really.”  Chanyeol grabs the knitted blanket hanging over the back of the couch and lays it on top of Kyungsoo. It doesn't stay, just falls through his body, but Kyungsoo mumbles a thank you anyway.

 A few hours later when Chanyeol is curled up on his bed, phone on the lowest brightness as he scrolls through twitter, he feels the mattress dip behind him. He doesn't acknowledge it at first, allowing Kyungsoo to get comfortable or get up if he realized that maybe he doesn't want to be in there but a few seconds pass and Kyungsoo doesn't move so Chanyeol tosses his phone onto a pile of clothes on the floor and rolls over onto his other side.

 Kyungsoo’s eyes are closed but he isn't sleeping, Chanyeol isn't sure how he knows but he does and he reaches out to cup the side of his face in his hands. He expects it to fall right through but his palm lands on the solid, warm flesh of his cheek.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

“I think I might have something for my first wish.” Chanyeol says a few days later. They're both in the kitchen, Kyungsoo sitting at the island, Chanyeol leaning over the stove. He wasn't exactly the best at cooking but the only person he had to feed was himself, and well he never complained. There's a soft clink behind him and Chanyeol turns, stirring his chopsticks around in the pot.

 Kyungsoo was looking at him, mouth open, a drop of milk clinging to the corner of his lips, hand open in the air. His spoon was sliding slowly down into the bowl. This was the first time he had seen Kyungsoo eat something.

 “What?” He asks.

 Chanyeol flicks the power off on the burner, turns around completely and leans against the counter Kyungsoo's sitting at and nods. “I thought of something.”

 Kyungsoo seems stunned and it's not until wipes his thumb across the seam of the lips to catch the drop of milk under his nail that he blinks back to reality.

 “Oh, okay. What is it?” He looks down, away from Chanyeol and picks the spoon back up out of the bowl. It's sticky and covered in milk. “Sudden wealth? A new car?”

 Chanyeol shakes his head. While a new car _does_ sound appealing, he’d much rather work for the money and get it himself than have Kyungsoo conjure up one for him.  “No, uhm. My mom — you haven’t met her but, she’s the the nicest person in the whole entire world and my wish, I want something good to happen to her.” His eyes flicker to the floor then back up. “She's been kinda lonely since my dad left…”

 Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise and it’s comical, the way his already wide eyes widen even more that Chanyeol huffs out a laugh. Kyungsoo slides off the stool, walks around the side of the kitchen island and stops in front of Chanyeol. He’s wearing a pair of Chanyeol’s old pajamas and the pants are too long for him, they pool on the floor around his feet.

 “What kinda good thing were you thinking of?” He asks and Chanyeol shrugs.

 “I don't know. I don't really want to get too specific— I kinda want to be surprised too.” He twists his lips to the side, “You're not one of those mean genies right? Like If I wished to be super good at something you'd actually give me the talent and not just make everyone else really bad at it.”

 “What?” Kyungsoo asks, laughing.

 “Like, in movies when people makes wishes, the genie people always take it so literal and turn people invisible and stuff.”

 “I’m not gonna do that don't worry, I'll only turn you invisible if you ask for it.”

 Chanyeol lets out a dramatic sigh of relief and turns back to the stove. The soup as still bubbling and he pours it into two bowls before it can cool down any more. He places them on the counter along with two spoons and climbs onto the stool beside Kyungsoo.

 “So, when do you do the whole magic bit?” He asks, his spoon is inside his mouth so his words are slurred and a bit of it pours out of the side of his smile. “Is there gonna be lights and stuff?”

 Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I did it already.”

 "What are you talking about?” Chanyeol exclaims, he slams his fists onto the counter and a splash of broth flies over and lands on Kyungsoo's cheek.

 “Are we really doing this again?” He wipes the sleeve of his — Chanyeol’s — sweater across his face. “I did it when you asked, there's no grand display or anything.”

 Chanyeol slumps over in his seat. “Well that was anticlimactic.”

 “Hm, yeah.” He takes a sip of the soup and Chanyeol looks over at him, wondering if he's just imagining the bitterness in his voice. “Just two more to go.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Chanyeol clicks the end call button and walks back into his bedroom. Kyungsoo is sprawled out a across his bed, feet hanging off the end, Chanyeol’s laptop on his chest, the bright lights from the anime he's watching blinking over his face.

 “That was my mom,” Chanyeol says. He crawls over Kyungsoo body and flops down beside him. Kyungsoo pauses the show and looks up at him, waiting for him to continue. “Yeah, she wanted to tell me that she ran into one of her old boyfriends today.”

 “Really?” He asks and Chanyeol nods.

 “Mhm, but that's not what she called to tell me.” He says, “On her way home she found an abandoned puppy!” His body shifts and bounces on the bed excitedly. “A puppy, Kyungsoo!”

 Chanyeol continues to bounce and the dip in the mattress causes Kyungsoo to slide down, until Chanyeol is right over top of him. He grabs the laptop off Kyungsoo's and pushes it off the side of the bed.

 “Why are you so excited?” Kyungsoo grumbles.

 “Because!” Chanyeol exclaims, “My wish came true! The one I made, the one you granted!”

 Kyungsoo laughs, reaches up and pinches one of Chanyeol’s cheeks. “Did you doubt me?” His expression changes slightly and it's unreadable, Chanyeol struggles with trying to comprehend it.

 “No, of course not.” He gently pulls at one of Kyungsoo’s hairs spread out across his bedspread and Kyungsoo bats at his hand.

 “Go to bed you big oaf,” He tells him, shimmying under the blankets, “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

 Chanyeol grins at him and crawls under the blankets with him. It's odd that Kyungsoo keeps showing up in his room, especially since they haven't gone anywhere in a while and he wouldn't need to regain energy, but Chanyeol doesn't complain. He enjoys the warmth that seems to radiate off Kyungsoo’s tanned skin at all hours, blames it on that and the cold nights for why he wakes up cuddled next to him, or sprawled across his small frame.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Chanyeol uses the next night to ask Kyungsoo something that's been eating away at the back of his mind. It wasn't a constant thing, it wasn't demanding to be asked, but every time he looked over at him Chanyeol would be reminded: _Oh! Right! Kyungsoo isn't real and his feelings towards me are probably the same as the feelings he had towards his last person._ The he'll start thinking about who that person was, were they nice to Kyungsoo? Did they even talk or did he make his wishes so selfishly fast that Kyungsoo didn't even get to see where he was?

 They're sitting on the couch, a thin blanket thrown over Chanyeol's bare legs and under Kyungsoo’s, a bowl of popcorn being used as a makeshift barrier between them because Kyungsoo claimed his skin was too cold.

 Kyungsoo laughs at something on the screen and his whole face lights up, his eyes close into crescents and his lips turn full heart. It's endearing, Chanyeol thinks, how small he looks curled up with a pillow clutched to his chest, how open and warm he is as he smiles at the screen, how he's probably done so much and seen so much more than Chanyeol will ever in his short lifetime and yet he's still here — and Chanyeol knows he doesn't have a choice but he's never once said to Kyungsoo that he had to stay here, he wouldn't force him too, but he likes to think he'd stay anyway.

 “Kyungsoo-yah,” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, the sound rough, and it cracks slightly on the honorific. Kyungsoo turns to him, the fading black of the credits rolling on the screen. “Can I ask you something?”

 A few of the popcorn kernels fall from the bowl as Kyungsoo turns to face him, a pair of circle lenses perched on his nose, his black hair disheveled from where he was leaning back against the cushion, and Kyungsoo pushes it off the couch and onto the table beside them.

 “Yeah, of course, what is it?”

 Chanyeol exhales deeply, “I was just wondering— you don't have to answer or anything— but uh, when was the last time you were out of your box, or i mean, who was the last person you were with?”

 “Oh.” Kyungsoo replies, and Chanyeol feels his stomach tying into knots under the thin fabric of his shirt. A wave of regret washes over him and he curls in on himself, the blanket falling from his legs. “No hey, Chanyeol, it's okay— It's okay, I just didn't think that that was what you were going to ask.”

 “If you don't want to answer its f—”

 Kyungsoo reaches out and places his palm flat against Chanyeol's knobby knee, traces his thumb against the bone. “His name was Jongdae, and you kind of remind me of him. He took forever to make his first wish too.”

 Chanyeol settles into the couch and pulls the popcorn bowl onto his lap, Kyungsoo chuckles softly and scoots closer towards him.

 “I wasn't in the box you found me in— I was transferred to that later, but back then I was in a compass, It couldn't be opened but Jongdae always kept it on him, said it was good luck when anyone asked.” He continues, his dark eyes becomes misty. “It was 1950, Jongdae was on the first line, along with his friend Junmyeon. They were the closest of friends. He always talked about getting an apartment with him when they got back.”

 “You were— Jongdae— You fought in the Korean war?”

 Kyungsoo shakes his head, “No, uh, back then I had more magic than I do now, I was able to hide myself from everyone.”

 

Chanyeol makes a soft “ah” sound in understanding.

 “I didn't know why he wasn't making any wishes, he was in _hell_ and yet he didn't wish for _anything_ I tried to get him to, it's hard y’know, becoming close to people when it's only temporary. I think Jongdae realized that too.”

 Chanyeol nods slowly and roughly knuckles at the corners of his eyes. Is that why Kyungsoo was so determined before? Why he was so persistent in getting Chanyeol to make his wishes?

 “There was a pretty rough battle about a month in,” Kyungsoo takes a shaky breath and his eyes flicker down to the blanket now taking up his lap. “I wasn't really there but I _was,_ I saw everything. It's one thing to learn about it but when you can remember everything so clearly, still smell the dirt and mud and blood and rotting bodies— sorry, it's just, Junmyeon died. They got through the trenches and it was hand to hand, Jongdae killed the guy that stabbed him.”

 Chanyeol shuffles closer and pulls Kyungsoo into his arms, onto his lap. He's shaking slightly and Chanyeol doesn't say anything, just rubs his hands down the bare skin of his arms.

 “It lasted a week. I couldn't do anything. That's the part that got to me the worst. I can’t _do_ anything unless someone else wishes it. Jongdae also wouldn't say anything, I just sat there with him while he held Junmyeon’s body in his arms.” He leans forward and presses his forehead against Chanyeol's chest. “Then, finally, a few days later he turned to me and asked for death.”

 Chanyeol gasps and looks down at Kyungsoo through the curtain of his bangs.

 “And I couldn't do anything,” He laughs coldly, “He wished for it, and all I could do is ask if he was sure— I can't actively reject a wish— and he nodded and held Junmyeon’s body closer and one of his unit officers couldn't take it anymore and pulled a grenade in the middle of their trench.”

 Chanyeol's mouth felt dry and his tongue heavy behind his lips. He pulled Kyungsoo closer and tightened his grip around him, his arms crushing him in a bruising hug. How did time work in his small box? Was it like falling asleep? or did he sit in there, awake and fully aware of everything that happened back then. Kyungsoo's shoulders shake slightly and Chanyeol smooths his hands over them, as soothingly as he can.

 “I’m sorry, I shouldn't of asked.” He murmurs into the silk of Kyungsoo's hair. Kyungsoo shakes his head, tilts his head up to look at him better.

 “No, it's okay. It's nice to tell someone.” His chin quivers slightly and Chanyeol frowns at the movement, presses his thumb against the dimples there until it stops shaking. “Thank you for listening.”

 “Of course,” He says and a small tear slides down the side of Kyungsoo's face. It's almost bright gold and it shimmers in the muted moonlight creeping in through the blinds. It's pure starlight and Chanyeol lets it fall down the curve of his cheekbone and land on the pad of his finger.

 “I’m gonna take you somewhere tomorrow okay? So rest up, do whatever you have to— I don't want you passing out when we get back.”

 Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, “Okay, yeah, where are we going?”

 "It's a surprise! So c’mon let's go to bed and you'll see tomorrow!”

 Kyungsoo mumbles something about not needing sleep but he just ignores it. He pulls Kyungsoo from the couch and yanks him towards the bedroom. The blankets are still pulled back from when they woke that morning so Chanyeol just pushes him onto the mattress and crawls over top of him to get to his side of the bed. To his credit, Kyungsoo doesn't fall asleep right away, but by the time Chanyeol has all the lights turned off and he's plugging his phone in, Kyungsoo is snoring quietly on the pillow next to him.

 Chanyeol knows he shouldn't be letting himself attached but he knows it's too late to climb back up that cliff.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

“I hate you.”

 Chanyeol can barely hear Kyungsoo’s voice over the sputtering of his car’s engine but he can see the way his mouth moves in the corner of his eyes, see the small crease in his brow as the summer wind blows at his bangs.

They had both woken up to the sound of Chanyeol's alarm, a blaring siren at 6 o’clock in the morning. Chanyeol had shot out of bed, showered, got dressed and ate before Kyungsoo had even opened his eyes.  Drowsy and still heavy with sleep they packed into Chanyeol's car, just as the sun was starting to become visible through the clouds. A soft hum of instruments were playing through the speakers and Chanyeol tapped his fingers against the wheel as Kyungsoo read through one of Chanyeol's old graphic novels.

 He didn't ask any questions and Chanyeol was glad, he was already thrumming with nerves and excitement, he didn't think he would be able to keep him mouth shut if Kyungsoo asked him directly.

 At some point during their three hour route Chanyeol turned down one of the side streets thinking it would be quicker but that's how they ended up here, standing at the side of the road while Chanyeol's car smoked and putted pathetically.

 “How was I suppose to know this would happen?” Chanyeol asks, frustrated. The hood was popped open and with the stick that holds it open being broken he resorted to just holding there. His arms were killing him. “Can't you just use your magic or something?”

 Kyungsoo laughs and pushes himself off the side of the car. “I don't— I can't, not unless you wish for it.”

 Chanyeol's stomach drops into his gut. He starts shaking his head violently. “No, _no_ , I’m not wasting my second last wish on my stupid car.” He slams the hood shut. “We’ll just have to wait for someone to drive by and hitch a ride.”

 “That's a good way to get killed.” Kyungsoo huffs.

 Chanyeol chuckles and walks around the back of the car to stand next to him. He's already sweating through the back of his shirt from the heat of the sun and the smoke billowing out of the hood. “Don't worry Soo-yah, I’ll protect you.”

 He throws his long arms around Kyungsoo's shoulders and pulls him close, only to have Kyungsoo struggle against his grip and slide out of them.

 “You're just gonna leave your car here?” He asks and Chanyeol shakes his head.

 “Well, I mean _yeah_ , for now. I have a mechanic friend in the city and i'll give him a call once where get somewhere with fucking service.” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and taps furiously at the top left corner where it reads: No Service. “He’ll get one of his guys to come pick it up.”

 Kyungsoo hums in reply and they settle into silence.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

In lieu of anything to do Chanyeol treks across the street towards the thick fields of grass that stretch endlessly towards the horizon, there's a tree, large and old, curved in on itself, towards the street and Chanyeol settles under it. He doesn't go too far though, not wanting to leave Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo doesn't seem to care or notice that he's left.

 He's laying on top of the car’s roof, arms stretched tight behind him, holding him up as he basks in the sun’s warm light. The street is narrow enough that Chanyeol can still see every feature freckling Kyungsoo’s round face and traces each one with his eyes. The bump of his nose, the curve of his lips, the long stretch of his neck as he leans back. It frightens Chanyeol how much he wants to put his lips there, how much he wants to drag his lips over every inch of his skin, trace each contour, learn every dip until he knows just where to press, where to lick, where to bite to have Kyungsoo sobbing underneath him.

 It also frightens him how much he wants Kyungsoo to do the same to him.

 Kyungsoo would be caring and attentive, the way he is secretly in their daily lives. Kyungsoo doesn't think he notices but he does, notices the way he turns the heat down on the stove burners when Chanyeol's not looking because he has it too high, or how he saves Chanyeol's work on his music program after he's fallen asleep in the chair. Chanyeol wants to thank him but he's worried, worried that once he acknowledges it that he'll stop.

 There's a soft rustle of grass in front of him and Chanyeol's eyes flutter open to find Kyungsoo crouched down beside him. The shadows of the leaves above them create a lacey pattern across his face, his cheeks and Chanyeol wants to reach out and touch him.

 He reaches up and taps the bill of Chanyeol's hat.

 “You fell asleep,” He says and Chanyeol just now realizes the heaviness of his limbs. “Someone stopped for us.” He juts his thumb over his shoulder and Chanyeol leans over to see that he's right. There's a small car stopped right in front of Chanyeol's and there's a man waving at them from the rolled down window of the drivers seat.

 They both squish into the backseat between two gym bags stacked onto the boiling leather. It's a tight fit, Chanyeol pressing up right against the door and Kyungsoo in the middle, trying to take up as little room as possible. There's loud music blaring through the speakers and Chanyeol doesn't recognize it. It sounds chinese.

 “So, where are you two headed?” The driver asks, leaning over to turn the volume down on the radio. He looks at Chanyeol through the rear side mirror, his almost cat-like eyes narrowed slightly against the sun’s rays.

 Chanyeol glances over at Kyungsoo who's silently staring at him and leans over him to whisper the location into his ear.

 “Ah,” He says, smiling. “A surprise.”

 Chanyeol grins and nods excitedly. Kyungsoo sighs deeply and buries his head into the bags beside him.

 “I love surprises,” The passenger muses, head killing to the side to blinks innocently at the man beside him, “But this one here never does anything like that for me.”

 “Yah!” He exclaims. He reaches over and hits the man square on the chest. “I don't do things like that cause you whine until I tell you what it is.”

 He scoffs, “I don't whine, Minseok, I'm usually just testing you.”

 Minseok rolls his eyes and glances back to where Chanyeol is laughing in the backseat. “So what are you two? Friends? Boyfriends?”

 Chanyeol makes a noise in the back of his throat and he lurches forward, coughing. Kyungsoo laughs and rubs his hand down the ridge of his spine.

 “No,” Kyungsoo says, his thumb gently traces his shoulderblades. “Well we _are_ friends but we're just that, and roommates.” Minseok hums in reply but Chanyeol can see how he's looking at them, like he knows something they don't. “I’m le— moving out soon and I guess he wanted to do something nice for me.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

Minseok and his boyfriend, Luhan, he later learns, drop him and Kyungsoo off in Itaewon around mid-day. They both scramble into the front seat to stick their hands out the window and Minseok screams rather loudly when Luhan ends up kneeing him the back.

 They both wave back and Chanyeol doesn't stop until Kyungsoo elbows him in the stomach. Chanyeol bends over, clutching where the impact was, moaning and groaning as Kyungsoo pulls him upright.

 “Why are we here?” He asks and Chanyeol beams. He grabs Kyungsoo's arm and yanks him forward, pulling him down the street.

 “I said it was a surprise so, just wait to be surprised.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

The War Memorial was a lot busier than Chanyeol thought it would be. There were hoards of tourists stalking around the grounds being lead by women and men in dark blue shirts. There were several exhibition rooms outside and more inside and Chanyeol grabs a map off of one of the desks when they walk inside.

 Kyungsoo’s eyes are incredibly wide when he turns around to wrap his hand around his thin wrists. There's a soft flush to his cheeks and a slight glimmer in his eyes as he looks around the room in wonder.

 They walk through the first hall and Kyungsoo twists his hand so that their fingers are entwined together instead of just resting around his arm. The first room was filled with paintings and sculptures and Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol from one to the other before Chanyeol can even finish reading the title of the work.

 The second room is where Kyungsoo stop in his tracks. It's the memorial room, where instead of paintings and sculptures dedicated to the theme of the war it's covered in military remains and relics. There are a few other people in the room with him, white families clad in bright t-shirts and fanny packs. He doesn't pay them any mind, not when Kyungsoo is tightening his grip around his hand and pressing closer against his side.

 “Oh my god…” Kyungsoo breathes and Chanyeol's attention snaps to where he's looking. It's a clear display case off to the side of the room. He can't see what it is from this distance but it can't be good, not with how pale and quiet Kyungsoo has gotten.

 “Careful Soo-yah, I need that hand.”

 Kyungsoo mutters an apology but barely loosens his grip as he drags Chanyeol towards it. From here Chanyeol can see what it is and his stomach drops into his shoes.

 There's a rusted, aged, compass propped up inside the display case and a small plaque nailed onto the box below. Chanyeol shuffles closer and when Kyungsoo's grip on his hand tightens, jerking him back to his spot, he pulls it back to his side. He leans closer to get a better look.

  _War compass. Found in Incheon._

 There's a small blurb about the battles that took place there and the casualties that followed them. There's also a note saying that the name _Kim_ is eligible on the side of the compass.

 “That's—” Kyungsoo's voice wavers slightly and Chanyeol presses his hand gently against the nape of his neck.

 Chanyeol nods and rubs his thumb soothingly against his neck as Kyungsoo reaches up and swipes the tears filling his eyes away and Chanyeol’s gaze falls onto the freshly cleaned floor.

 “I’m sorry.” He says, trying to ignore the way Kyungsoo is sniffling beside him. “I don't know why I brought you here...I thought maybe—”

 Chanyeol's unintelligent ramble is cut off by Kyungsoo's arms wrapping tightly around his middle like a vine, Chanyeol has to step back to steady himself from the impact.

 “Don't apologize.” Kyungsoo says, mouth muffled slightly by Chanyeol's shirt. “You don't have to say sorry.”

 “But you're crying,” Chanyeol tells him, and Kyungsoo laughs quietly against his chest.

 “I’m not crying because it's bad,” Kyungsoo explains, “I’m crying because i'm happy, I didn't think I was ever going to see this again— any of this.” He pulls away slightly to look at Chanyeol and Chanyeol gasps quietly. Even crying he looks beautiful. Chanyeol reaches up and wipes at some of the starlight tears clinging to his cheeks. “Thank you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol smiles softly and nods, trying to swallow the inappropriate urge swelling up in his throat to lean down and kiss him. He bites his cheeks between his molars and pats his shoulder. He knows if he lets go he'll end up saying something stupid, like the fact that he likes him, _in a way that's more than friendly_ , in a way that has him laying awake at night wondering and thinking about how the fuck he's going to get out of it, in a way that has him smiling to himself every time Kyungsoo laughs at something on the screen or at something he read.

 The metallic tang of blood slides over his tongue and Chanyeol has to let go of his cheek, and even before he can dig his last tooth out of the flesh he can feeling the words climbing out of his throat.

 “That's my second wish Kyungsoo,” He says instead. He points to the compass in front of them, still lit by the small lights behind the display case. “I want it.”

 Kyungsoo pulled back again, this time out of his grip. “What?”

 “The compass, I would like to have it please.” He holds his hands out in between them like Kyungsoo is just going to reach into the secure case and plop it into his grasp.

 “Why do you want it though?” He asks, “Why waste your second wish on something like that?”

 “Because, Kyungsoo, believe it or not you're important to me and I know this compass is important to you so would you please grant my wish please.”

 He wiggles his fingers and Kyungsoo just stares at him, eyebrows narrowed in a way that leaves his expression unreadable and it makes Chanyeol want to shake him for it. Other times he can read his easily, know exactly what he's thinking, but when he's like this he shuts down completely and Chanyeol just wants to squish his face between his hands and remind that _I'm right here Kyungsoo. Please don't shut me out._

 Something cold slides between his fingers and he looks down. The compass is sitting in his open palm, the chain wrapping itself around his fingers. His hands are gonna smell disgustingly like metal in a few minutes but he doesn't care not when Kyungsoo is looking at him like—

 “Kyungsoo?”

 He's not standing beside him any more. His head whips around the room, there's no one else in there except for a tour guide and her group, walking slowly through the exhibits. His eyes widen and he shoves the compass into his pocket, then hastily makes his way out of the room.

He goes back to the first room, hoping Kyungsoo got a sudden muse for dark art but it's empty, as are the other few exhibits in the building. His feet carry him quickly around and his heart is beating so fast he's sure it's going to break his ribs any second. Where the hell could he be? Did he lie to Chanyeol that first day about how many wishes he got? Did he only get two?

Chanyeol sits down on one of the benches outside the museum and rests his head in his hands. His breathing his erratic and there are tears clinging to his lashes, a few people stare at him as they walk by and it just makes his stomach twist tighter. Kyungsoo couldn't be gone.  

 He sits there for god knows how long, watching the people pass by, his heart quickening every time he sees someone with short black hair, hears a low voice in the yard over. The sun is just starting to set and groups of tourists are spilling out the doors to the museum as it's getting ready to close for the night.

 The bench groans slightly and Chanyeol jumps at the sound.

 “Kyungsoo!” He exclaims and he topples both of them over onto the finely kept grass. Kyungsoo makes a quiet _oomp_ sound as they land and Chanyeol shifts his body so that he isn't squishing his stomach or lungs, his arms coming to rest on either side of his head. “Where the hell did you go? I thought you left, as in, _left_ left.”

 His eyes are still puffy from crying earlier and his cheeks are bloated and red. “I just needed some air, sorry for worrying you.”

 Chanyeol deflates and his arms buckle under his weight, he lands rather heavily on top of Kyungsoo's form.  

“It's okay, let's just— there's a bus leaving soon, let's go home.”

 

⚘✸⚘

 

When they get home it's almost eleven o’clock and Kyungsoo passes out on the couch. They didn't end up taking much on the busride home, Chanyeol fell asleep a couple minutes in and Kyungsoo was eerily quiet before then. During the trip though he could feel Kyungsoo's fingers running through his hair and he woke up sprawled across his lap.

 Chanyeol grabs one of the blankets out of the basket by the television stand and throws it over Kyungsoo's body as he shivers slightly against the breeze blowing in from the window.

 He doesn't sleep well that night, not when there's any empty space in the mattress next to him and a dead man's compass sitting on his dresser.

 He doesn't think twice about Kyungsoo sleeping out in the living room, he was obviously exhausted from the day's events and wanted to sleep but the same thing happens the next night too, and the next night. Neither of them leave the apartment, Chanyeol stays in his room working on some songs and Kyungsoo sits out in the living room with his laptop, binge watching an anime series he's gotten hooked on.

 He ignores Chanyeol as best he can as well too. Chanyeol will be calling for him, wanting him opinion on a certain part and it’ll take several yells of: Kyungsoo-yah! and a round pillow being thrown at his head before he shuffles into the room after him.

 But the thing that bothers him the most is that he shouldn't even _be_ sleeping, he shouldn't be out on the couch all night because he hasn't gone fully solid since they went to the museum, and if he's not sleeping out there that means he's just avoiding Chanyeol and why the hell would he be doing that?

 “Kyungsoo-yah.” Chanyeol says, it's been a bit more than a week since the last time he really spoke to him. He's sitting at the kitchen table reading through one of Chanyeol's cooking books. He tries again. “Kyungsoo-yah.”

 It's not until he opens his mouth a third time that Kyungsoo looks up. He looks exhausted, light bruises decorating his under eyes.

 “Are you here to make your third wish?”

 Chanyeol's stomach drops heavily to the floor and he grips the couch beside him to keep his legs from buckling.

 “Is that why you've been avoiding me?” He asks quietly and his chin quivers slightly at the way Kyungsoo refuses to meet his eyes. “Is that why you haven't been talking to me? or sleeping with me? Because you're preparing yourself for when I make my last wish?”

 Kyungsoo lets out a shaky breath and he nods. “You weren't suppose to take this long, I don't like getting attached.”

 Chanyeol thinks of Jongdae in the trenches, muddy and permitting sweat and blood and death, and how he never made any wishes. He almost starts wondering about how attached he was to him but the compass sitting in his room holds the answer to that.

 “Did you love Jongdae?” He asks, and Kyungsoo looks up startled, eyes wide enough that they take up half his face. Chanyeol's not entirely sure where that came but from he doesn't try and take it back.  

“Maybe,” He answers, voice strained. “I didn't think about. He didn't have the luxury of feeling things like that and I wasn't going to fool myself into thinking otherwise.”

 “He loved Junmyeon though.”

 Chanyeol doesn't know why he's pushing. He doesn't know why he's trying to see him mad, but he hasn't been _anything_ for days he just wants something. Anything. Kyungsoo’s mouth presses into a thin line and he grips the side of his book until his knuckles turn white.

 “Junmyeon was real.” He says, “I was just a dead star rotting away in his compass, waiting for him to make a wish.”

 Chanyeol takes a few steps forward and places his hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders, he's looming over him and he finds himself surprised that his hands don't fall right through. 

“You're real Kyungsoo.” He tells him. “You're not dead, you're not nonexistent, you're real, you exists.” He presses his thumbs down until Kyungsoo flinches against the pain. “You're existing right here, right now with me, in this moment.”

 Kyungsoo swallows heavily and he blinks against the tears collecting in his eyes. Chanyeol wipes them away.

 “I'm going to tell you something, okay Kyungsoo?” He exhales deeply, “You don't have to answer right away, or reciprocate or anything, just let me—”

 “Don't.” Kyungsoo interrupts.

 “You don't even know what I'm going to say.”

 Kyungsoo laughs sadly and nods his head against Chanyeol's palms where they're framing his face.

 “I do.” He says, “Please don't say it, I don't want to hurt you.

 Chanyeol pulls his hands back and shoves them into the sleeves of his sweater. “Why would you hurt me?”

 Kyungsoo closes the book and pushes it away from him. He pulls his legs up onto the chair with him and picks at a carving on the wood as Chanyeol leans back against the couch.

 “Because you're going to tell me that you like me,” He starts and Chanyeol's face heats up, his eyes widen and his shoulders curl in on themselves. Kyungsoo smiles softly at him. “And then i’ll stupidly respond that I like you too.”

 Chanyeol looks up just as Kyungsoo looks back to the ground and he takes the one large step he has to in order to stand in between his open legs. He lifts his hand and strokes the pad of his thumb across his jaw, then pushes his chin up so that he's looking at him.

 “Why would that hurt me?”

 Kyungsoo eyes flicker to Chanyeol's nose, then his lips then back up his eyes.

 “Because my leaving is inevitable.” He says, “And I don't want you wasting your life away wondering what could have happened between us if I was r— wasn't on limited time.”

 Chanyeol traces his thumb over the bump of his nose, the soft curve of his lips, over his cheekbones and eyebrows and Kyungsoo lets his eyes flutter close. He wants to kiss him so bad. He's aching with how much he wants it. But he knows it'll break Kyungsoo if he does.

 “Can I make my third wish?”

 Kyungsoo's eyes shoot open. From this distance he can see the whole galaxy reflected in his sclera. “What?” He asks and his voice cracks so loudly that they both flinch against the noise.

 “I want to make my last wish Kyungsoo, if you'll let me.”

 Kyungsoo opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “I don't have much of a choice.”

 “This one you do.” Chanyeol tells him, “I don't want you granting it unless it's something you want too.”

 Chanyeol smiles at the way Kyungsoo's confusion shows so plainly on his face and he rubs the wrinkles between his eyebrows away.

 “Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says and Kyungsoo nods in affirmation, “I wish you were real. I wish you were human like I am, like Jongdae and Junmyeon were, like you've always wanted to be. I wish you were human and no longer a captive to your past life as a star, I wish you would stay here with me and _be_ with him until we're both old men, sitting out on our front porch. I wish you were free Kyungsoo.”

 Kyungsoo's breath hitches and Chanyeol stares down at him hopeful and unblinking. He expects something to happen, a burst of light, a ray of sun shining it's way through the blinds but nothing happens. There's no dramatic event or show that occurs, Kyungsoo just lifts his arms up, grinning like a fool, pulls down the sleeves of his sweater and reveals the two matching silver bracelets on his wrists.

 Before, Chanyeol could see they were painfully tight across his skin, digging into his wrists and causing bruises to purple his skin but now, he twists his arms around in front of Chanyeol's face and they're almost falling off.

 “Does that mean?” Chanyeol's asks and he doesn't even bother finishing his question because Kyungsoo is nodding, smiling, and pushing him up and back towards the couch.

 There's a split second where Kyungsoo just watches him, and then he's pressing his lips against Chanyeol's, capturing them in a kiss and Chanyeol kisses back, just as desperately just as tentatively. They fall over the back of the couch and Kyungsoo lands on top of him, his legs framing his waist.

They kiss until they both have to come up for air and even then they don't stop touching each other. Kyungsoo presses his mouth against Chanyeol's throat, drags his lips, his teeth across the sensitive skin there. Chanyeol leans his head back to give him more room and he moans quietly as Kyungsoo bites down against his collarbone.

 “You're beautiful, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo says against his skin and Chanyeol just nods in lieu of speaking, too focused on the way Kyungsoo's hands keep going lower and lower and lower. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

 Chanyeol goes to answer, sure that's what he wants but Kyungsoo just kisses him, his tongue tracing the seam of their lips. He pulls back after and holds Chanyeol's face between his smaller hands. He rubs his thumbs gently over his hairline and Chanyeol feels giddy with how much _love_ is burning behind his eyes.

 “God Chanyeol,” he mutters. His voice is quiet but it's perfect, there's only the two of them here. “You're so bright— so much brighter than I ever was.”

 Chanyeol's mouth falls open and his breath hitches. He doesn't understand what he means by that, his brain is fried by the tone of his voice and the way his fingers are tangling in his hair, the way his hips are grinding down slowly against Chanyeol's own, he can't even form a full sentence before breaking out into groans.

 “W-why do you, _fuck_ , say that?”

 Kyungsoo presses his palm against the growing bulge in Chanyeol's shorts and a Chanyeol's hips buck up, seeking more friction. He shifts over, presses his thigh in between his legs instead and lets him grind against him until they're both moaning into each other's mouths.

 “Because Chanyeol,” He says, “You live with everything you have.” He doesn't elaborate and Chanyeol doesn't want him to. They can have this conversation another time, later, when they're not dry humping against each other like teenagers and Chanyeol can hold Kyungsoo tightly and trace the thin bones of his hands with his fingers and he'll listen to him for as long as he wants to talk.

 

⚘✸⚘

 

**A FEW MONTHS LATER**

 

“So this is the person who's been keeping Chanyeol captive for the past few months.” Baekhyun muses as he walks around where Kyungsoo is perched on the sofa, flipping through a new book that he bought at the store down the street.

 “He hasn't been keeping me captive!” Chanyeol exclaims. He huffs and grabs the bowl of chips from the counter.

 Baekhyun's been pestering him for weeks about meeting his mysterious new boyfriend and he was _so horribly hurt_ that Chanyeol didn't text him the minute he met him that he didn't leave his bed for days. Chanyeol knows he wasn't going to leave that bed anyway but Baekhyun's always been one for dramatics.

 “So,” Baekhyun drawls, settling down on the couch beside Kyungsoo, “Where did Chanyeol find you?”

“He bought me.” Kyungsoo deadpans, then goes back to reading.

 Chanyeol sputters and flushes at Kyungsoo's choice of words. “I-I didn't _buy_ him, I don't know why he'd say that." His voice changes pitch and he's almost _whining._ "That's really weird Soo-yah. Stop telling people that.”

Baekhyun grabs a handful of ships and shoves them into his open mouth, both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo stick their tongue out in disgust.

 “Hey!” Baekhyun calls and a few damp chip chunks go flying. “Don't make that face at me, you bought your boyfriend. You're more gross that I am.”

Chanyeol grabs the book from Kyungsoo's hands and tosses it across the small room at Baekhyun. He leans to the side as it sails past him and he looks back at him, a hand on his chest. Utterly offended.  “No, but in all seriousness, tell me how you two met.” He says, bending over the back of the couch to pick Kyungsoo's book back up. “Because the boyfriends are giving me two different stories and I want the real one.”

Chanyeol glances over to Kyungsoo and they both smile at each other. His gaze then falls onto the small black box on the coffee table currently holding Baekhyun's feet up. Chanyeol didn't think he was ever going to be able to open it but after Kyungsoo finally undid the bracelets around his wrists it popped open just as easily as they fell off. Inside now was just those two bracelets and a rusting compass. No more star-boys to collect.

 He could tell Baekhyun, he'd probably believe him but where's the fun it that? Chanyeol winks at Kyungsoo and settles down further into the chair.

 “We met at a shop in Myeongjang."

**Author's Note:**

> also its come to my attention that im the worst human in the world because i don't answer comments (i plan to but then i forget and by that point its too late to reply) so from now on im gonna answer them and i have 100+ in my inbpx right now so to everyone who has commented on my fics in the past: thank you so much! i do read all of them and im very thankful for your kind words. i love u all
> 
> follow me on twitter [here](http://twitter.com/dyeois) !!


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